


Tentative Peace

by Mirianne



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Prostheses, Vader is obsessive over his son, Vader's poor health, What else is new, a fic that takes place on Hoth after Bespin, and poorer self-image, the Force playing favorites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13665075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirianne/pseuds/Mirianne
Summary: Monitoring their bond after Bespin, Vader senses that Luke is alone, unhappy, and in some pain.  This is enough to push him into acting, and he goes to make sure Luke is all right.





	Tentative Peace

**Author's Note:**

> So the original challenge was: Vader finds Luke on Hoth. I immediately started thinking about how this would work post-Bespin rather than during ESB. (This may be, at least in part, because I have a tendency to enjoy being contrary for the sake of it--or not.) It was fun to write, so thanks, KaelinaLovesLomaris, both for the prompt and for reading it over.

The sudden brush of unhappy emotions and shadowy images brought Vader out of a restless sleep to stare around his hyperbaric chamber.  The lights came up at sensing his consciousness but revealed nothing.  They stung his eyes, but that wasn’t what made him close them.  No, he turned his concentration inward, to a bond that was still on the edge of painful in his mind.

The strength of the Light in the bond, even with the unhappy emotions, burned.  At that, it was better than when the bond had burst into full strength—at one of the most awkward moments possible.

Exposure apparently helped, and Vader had been monitoring the bond from the moment that foresworn Baron Calrissian got their ridiculous ship Vader wanted a better look at into hyperspace.  He’d done his best to keep Luke from noticing his attentions, but he’d wanted to know the ragtag Rebel supposed organization was actually giving  _his son_  decent care.

(And if he’d wanted to be sure that learning the truth hadn’t destroyed something in the boy, no one had to know that.  Certainly not his master.)

When he first started monitoring the bond, the Light had burned like lava, and he knew enough to make that comparison.  Now, it was minor discomfort as he slipped far enough into the bond to sense Luke’s unhappiness, and that unhappiness hurt more than the Light side he’d forsaken.

Luke was sleeping, but his dreams were full of shadows and pain, and the misery was so much worse than it had been even a day ago.  And Luke was no longer at whatever medical facility the Rebels had managed to scrounge up.  In fact, Vader sensed no one around him at all.

Temper snapping, Vader slapped the controls for his mask and helmet with the Force.  As soon as the hyperbaric chamber opened, he stalked from his quarters and to the hangar.  On his way, he contacted Piett.  “I have a mission.  Proceed as planned; I will catch up with you when I have finished.”

“Yes, Lord Vader.”

He cut the connection and stormed up the ramp of his personal shuttle.  He was done staying out of things; there had been pain as well as misery when he touched Luke’s mind.

When the shuttle emerged from hyperspace in the Hoth system, Vader had to force his hands to unclench.  Why had Luke returned here?

He began threading the shuttle through the system’s debris and followed the bond to the wrecked base.  He landed the shuttle beside a familiar X-Wing and strode into the base.

Luke had set up in a small room that was relatively undamaged, small enough that the small fire Luke crouched over managed to heat the room enough not to be dangerous.  The small pot of soup hung over the fire was heating slowly.

When Luke registered the sound of Vader’s respirator, he flinched and cringed back into the corner.

Keeping his movements slow and steady, Vader took a single step inside the room and crouched, keeping his hands away from his lightsaber.  “I did not come to fight.”

Inexplicably, Luke relaxed.  “Then do you want to join me?”  His smile was a little wan but present.  “After all, if I’m dreaming, I might as well take advantage.”

Behind his mask, Vader almost flinched.  Was it so unbelievable he didn’t want to fight his son again?  But if it would keep this from becoming another fight. . .  He moved slowly into the room.  It took him a moment to sit by the fire; the cold made his prosthetics less responsive than ever.  And sitting on the ground wasn’t something he did much anymore.  The too-familiar motions of kneeling came more easily, but he didn’t want to shock his son.

Eventually, they sat across from each other, the only sounds in the small room the crackling of the fire between them and Vader’s respirator.  “What brought you back to Hoth?” he asked.

Luke shrugged.  Though it was hard to tell with the red taint to Vader’s vision through his mask, his cheeks seemed to have darkened.  “I wanted time to think before going back to Tatooine.  I thought Hoth would be safe enough.”

Confirmation, if he’d needed it, that he was right not to tell Luke yet that this wasn’t a dream, though that the Force hadn’t whispered the truth was interesting.

But now wasn’t the time to consider that.  “Tatooine?”

Luke shrugged again.  “I need a new lightsaber, don’t I?”

“Indeed.”  Again, Luke stung him without even meaning to, and he tried to blink away the sight of that lightsaber, one he’d made but one that suited his son quite well, falling into shadows with Luke’s hand still wrapped around it.  He looked down at Luke’s hands, saw that Luke was rubbing his right wrist through the black glove that covered it.  Vader frowned.  It was, from what he’d sensed, an acceptable quality of prosthetic, but the cold wouldn’t be good for it.  “Will you tell me what you plan for it?”  Now wasn’t the time to push, much as he wanted to bundle the boy up and get him somewhere more secure—somewhere with a proper medic Vader halfway trusted to be both competent and discreet.

At first, Luke’s explanation of what he planned was halting, with many references to his hopes for finding help in Obi-Wan’s old things that had Vader swallowing his temper, but as Luke got further into his explanation, he started to add his own thoughts.  A few questions and carefully phrased tips had him relaxing and adding thoughts he wasn’t sure would work but wanted to try.  Someday, if not this time.

Luke had a talent for mechanics.

Vader found himself enjoying the conversation, to his surprise, and the embers that had been burning inside him since he learned the name of the pilot who’d destroyed the Death Star flared higher.  Even with Luke thinking it a dream, Vader struggled to meet Luke’s eyes.

“Why are you so content to be speaking to me?” Vader asked when Luke finally ran down.

“It’s a dream,” Luke pointed out, frowning.

“Would that not give you a chance to rail at me without consequences?”

Luke looked away and shrugged a little.  “You’re my father,” he admitted.  “If the only way I can talk to you without fighting is in a dream, I’ll take it.  Even if you’re just my subconscious.”

The flames in Vader’s chest burned higher.  Almost, he admitted the truth, but the Force whispered caution to him.  He chose to listen.  “You should eat, young one.”

After a second staring at him, Luke nodded and served himself.  “Want some?”

“I cannot.”  His voice grated slightly, and he took a moment to settle his reaction to the courtesy.  “The offer is appreciated, but it is not possible.”

“Even in a dream?”

“Even here.”  Since it  _wasn’t_  a dream.  He frowned when Luke fumbled with his right hand and eventually transferred the spoon to his left.  “Is your prosthetic well?  Are you adapting?”  He wondered if asking had been a mistake when Luke flinched, fighting down his own memories of why that prosthetic was necessary.  The join where his own right arm met his prosthetic stung with memories of a fresh prosthetic.

Oh, he  _remembered_  what he’d dealt with after Dooku cut his arm off.

“It’s fine,” Luke said quietly.  He ate several bites of soup, not quite looking at Vader.  “They did a good job, and apparently, it’s a good quality prosthetic.”

Vader stayed quiet while Luke ate several more bites of soup, but his resistance couldn’t last forever.  “They did not inform you that extreme cold is hard on prosthetics, especially new ones?”

“No.”  Luke frowned and slowly set down his soup.  “And if I didn’t know that, how could you?”

Vader scowled.  He considered blaming the Force, but he hadn’t outright lied to his son yet.  He wouldn’t start.  “Because this is not a dream, child.”  He held out his hands when Luke went white and flinched away.  “Peace, Luke.  I did not come to fight or to capture you.  I sensed you were alone and upset.  I came to check on you.  Nothing more.”

Slowly, cautiously, Luke’s Force presence brushed against his own, and he allowed it as he would no other now.

Luke didn’t truly relax, but he no longer looked ready to bolt.  “Then what now?  What could you possibly have expected, coming here?”

“That is not merely my decision.  However, I do not like the difficulty you are having with that prosthetic.  My resources are. . .a bit beyond what your—Alliance can offer you.  Will you accompany me long enough to have it checked?  And possibly upgraded?  I would not have you hindered by inferior technology.”  Unlike him.  But his son deserved far more, and far better care, than he did.  “No strings attached, Luke.  You have my word.  When it is over, you will be free to leave with an untraceable ship of your choice.  Or I will take you where you wish.”

“What about Palpatine?”

“My master does not know everything I do or everything that takes place on my ship.  I will ensure it stays that way.  If he  _does_  learn, I will make sure you escape.”  Whatever it cost him.  But that was not Luke’s concern.

Again, that Light touch against his mind.  Vader closed his eyes and waited, not daring to hope.

“No strings attached, Father?”

The title pushed him to look, and he found Luke had risen and come to stand in front of him.  He didn’t stand, not wanting to risk whatever Luke was considering and unbothered by having to look up at his son.  “None.”

A long, tense moment hung between them.  What Windu might have called a shatterpoint, before—before.  Then Luke nodded and held out his hand.  “All right.”

Shocked, Vader accepted the hand, though he didn’t use it to rise.  It might have been easier, but Luke was so much smaller.  He took the minute Luke needed to stamp out the fire and gather his few things to try to get both his thoughts and his prosthetics in order, but he didn’t feel quite steady on his feet as they began walking back to their ships.

Luke glanced up at him as they walked into the makeshift hangar.  “And you can give me more tips about building a new lightsaber,” he suggested with a grin.

Almost, Vader laughed.  “Agreed.”


End file.
